


Enjolras POV- Hold Onto Me (If You're Looking for Love)

by Wetdreamsanddampjeans (mihomi98)



Series: The Wet Adventures of Enjolras and Grantaire [1]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Bladder Control, Desperation, Desperation Play, M/M, Omorashi, holding contest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-08
Updated: 2016-09-08
Packaged: 2018-08-13 20:24:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7985059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mihomi98/pseuds/Wetdreamsanddampjeans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras and Grantaire came up with a new way to get through Jehan's poetry readings--take a drink of soda for every time a poet mentions something to do with nature. Things were fine at the reading, but now, three hours later and with almost eighty ounces of soda in each of their bladders, Grantaire and Enjolras will have to face a battle to get home dry. </p>
<p>It's a good thing Enjolras and Grantaire both have a piss kink.</p>
<p>Enjolras POV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Enjolras POV- Hold Onto Me (If You're Looking for Love)

**Author's Note:**

> This contains pee desperation and omorashi. Not your thing? Don't read. It turns you on like fuck? Read on then, fellow omo lovers, read on. 
> 
> I may do a version from Grantaire'S POV.

****

In hindsight, / _maybe_ / going to one of Jehan's poetry readings in the middle of nowhere wasn't that awesome of an idea.

Well, maybe it wouldn't have been so bad if Enjolras and Grantaire hadn't made the decision beforehand to make things a little different at this reading. A little more . . . /interesting/, so to speak. To the rest of Les Amis, and to everyone else in the cafe, it seemed that everything was normal, but to Grantaire and Enjolras . . . things were anything but.

They had, you see, wagered a bit of a competition before they had agreed to go to their friend's fifteenth poetry reading of the month. They had sat through at least half of the sessions bored to tears, and had received blow-by-blows for the rest, but this was going to be different. In addition to it being another reading, it was /also/ Grantaire and Enjolras's six-month anniversary of being a couple.

It had all started earlier that day, when Grantaire had announced that they were driving thirty miles outside of Paris. Enjolras had groaned and dropped his head back against the top of the couch, his eyes flickering shut and his arms crossing over his stomach.

"/ _Do we really have to go, R? I could be doing so much other work here at home."_

_"Now, now, Enj," Grantaire  said, the drawl in his voice tempting Enjolras to sit up and look at his boyfriend with a raised eyebrow, "I was thinking that perhaps we could make the reading a little more interesting. A bit of a wager, if you will."_

_Enjolras's other eyebrow shot up. Wagers between Grantaire and him never failed to disappoint. He leaned forward and rested his forearms on his thighs, interlacing his fingers between his_ _knees. "What are you suggesting, R?"_

_Grantaire smirked and dropped down onto the couch next to Enjolras. He put his hand on Enjolras's thigh and squeezed lightly. "We make it into a game." He wagged his eyebrows. "Most of the poems this time of year seem to be about the falling leaves and the changing colors of the trees, so . . . what if we made it into a holding game_?"/

Enjolras and Grantaire had discovered pretty early on in their relationship about their mutual interest in piss desperation and wetting, so of /course/ Enjolras had been interested in pursuing a holding contest. Normally, Grantaire was the one who did all of the holding and wetting (Enjolras was more into watching than participating), but Enjolras thought that it would be fun to be on the receiving end, for once.

Now, however, three hours after the contest had begun, Enjolras was really starting to regret ever agreeing to participate. His bladder felt full and heavy against the button of his gray skinny jeans, and his hands were constantly clenching and unclenching as he struggled to keep his hands away from the growing bulge. Grantaire and he had agreed on the way to the reading that any crotch-grabbing or forceful holding of any manner before they got home would disqualify them from the winning the competition, something that they both very much wanted to do. (It was more than a matter of pride. The loser became the winner's sexual slave for the night, and / _boy_ / did Enjolras had great plans for when he won.)

Grantaire, it seemed, was struggling with keeping his hands away just as much as Enjolras was. He was wearing baggy jeans, which likely helped keep down the pressure, but his dark-blue half zip clung to his upper body and abdomen so well that it was easy for Enjolras to see how distended Grantaire's bladder had become.

For a little while, Enjolras was able to distract himself by focusing on the Sparks of arousal shooting through his veins at the small whimpers Grantaire was releasing and the way that he arched his back to press the base of his cock into the car seat, but it wasn't long before /anything/ could distract Enjolras from his growing need. During the reading, Grataire and he had both consumed four twenty-ounce bottles of soda (Coke and Black Cherry Vess, respectively). It seemed that all the liquid was destined to settle at once, as Enjolras shot yo from merely being uncomfortable to having to clench his thighs together and close his eyes tightly to keep any leaks from escaping out.

As the car hit a bump, Enjolras was nearly sure that all of his struggling was for nothing as he felt a wave of urine escape from his bladder and travel down his urethra, stopped only by him tensing his sphincter muscles and putting ever ounce of his attention on not peeing.

Fortunately, Enjolras wasn't the one driving, so he could lock his focus without having to worry about anything else. Grantaire, on the other hand, had to weave in and out of winding roads and around tractors almost as often as he had to press his foot against the pedal. When the car hit the bump, while Enjolras could concentrate, Grantaire had to divide his attention. He let out a loud moan and arched his back even more, the leg he wasn't using to drive jiggling constantly as he let out a series of pained groans.

"Oh, my God, I have to piss," he groaned, biting his lip and glancing over at Enjolras before tightening his grip on the steering wheel until the tips of his fingers turned white beneath the pressure. It was obvious that the "no crotch grabbing" rule was becoming harder and harder for Grantaire to follow.

Enjolras, too, was struggling with keeping his cock out of his grip. He ground his teeth and moved to sit on his heel before whimpering, "Let's change the rules, baby. You can use your hands as much as you want to hold it in as long as you don't leak anything. Deal?" His hand hovered above his penis at just the mere mention of the action. It was getting harder and harder to keep himself from following through, each wave of desperation sending more and more bits of liquid down his urethra and onto the tip of his dick, which was burning was the struggle to keep everything in.

"Deal," Grantaire replied, glancing over at Enjolras again before shoving his hand down the front of his pants. He whimpered again as his hand brushed his bladder. "Holy dog balls, I have to piss. I don't know if I can make it much longer."

"Me neither." Enjolras shifted again, letting out a whimper of his own as his button dig in particularly deep. It felt like his piss was going to burst out of him at any minute, and the time between waves have shortened down until it was nearly nonexistent.

Enjolras tried to keep his hands out of his pants for his own sake, but after five minutes of watching Grantaire knead himself both over and under his jeans, it was impossible for him not to give in. He undid the button and slipped his hand in, wrapping the meaty part of his hand around the base of his cock and used his fingers to pinch the top shut. Immediately, he was struck with an inane amount of relief as his cock realized that it didn't have to do al the work holding back any longer.

"No no no no," Enjolras muttered as that little bit of relief relaxed him a little too much, making another spirt tush down towards the top of his dick and nearly escape. He began to copy Grantaire's movement, arching his back and pressing in between his hand and the seat, but things were getting to be almost too much for him. The brief relief overwhelmed his senses, an it took every ounce of willpower that he still had to convince himself not to let it out all right then and there.

Things were getting worse for Grantaire, too. "I'm serious, Enj, I can feel my piss slamming against my fingers . . . Fuck, my cock is so full, it feels like it does when I'm fucking you but it's just all fucking piss." He let another whimper as the car came to a stop at a traffic light. He unzipped and unbuttoned his pants the rest of the way and yanked his boxers down around his balls, making a fist with his free hand and moving it up to his mouth to bite on as his cock gave a visual twitch from beneath its pile of curls.

Grantaire wasn't lying when he said that his cock was full. It didn't look like it did when he was hard, but it was standing nearly completely upright. It was still flaccid, but the continuous twitching was enough to signal to Enjolras that it was filled to the brim with hot, golden piss.

Enjolras let out a small moan, although this time the noise was from his incredible arousal rather than from the prickling feeling that was spreading along the length of his cock. Grataire looked /so/ sexy when he was vulnerable and desperate, and this time wasn't any different.

Enjolras was overcome with a desire to rub his palm against his cock in a way that wasn't only meant to keep himself from pissing. He bit his lip and pressed his throbbing member in between his hand and his thigh, groaning quietly when the urge to urinate subsided and the desire to be jerked off replaced it.

This time when Grantaire looked over, his eyes grew wide for a different reason. His pupils dilated immensely, and he let out a strangled breath before squeezing his cock tighter. "God, Enjolras, you're so fucking hot like that."

"So are you." He bit his lip and furrowed his brows for a moment before giving in to the desire to touch. He reached across the center console and wrapped the fingers of his left hand around Grantaire, nudging the man's shaking hands off his lap and back onto the steering wheel as the light changed from red to green.

When Enjolras's hand stuttered off of Grantaire's cock in a moment of weakness, Grantaire cringed and hastily dropped his hand back down. Enjolras pushed him away and resumed his firm, careful strokes, silently cheering for himself when he successfully managed to make the both of them too hard to piss.

"There," Enjolras said, loosening his grip and moving his hand away from Grantaire's still-twitching member, "now we don't have to worry about whether or not we will make it home. It's only, what, ten, fifteen minutes away?"

"Yeah." Grantaire's voice was choked, and his cheeks had gone a dark-red color. He waited for Enjolras to start stroking him again, but when Enjolras didn't, his erection began to wilt and he started to shift his hips in discomfort again. He whimpered. "Fuck, baby, I won't even make it that long if you don't keep me hard."

"Mmm." Enjolras's lips quirked up in a teasing grin, but the way that his still-full cock was quickly wilting was leading him to wonder the same thing. The few minutes of being hard had dropped his urge down to a manageable level, but now, without that blood-filled barrier . . . Enjolras would be lucky if he even made it the five minute it'd take to get back to their neighborhood. He thought he had been desperate before, but that was /nothing/ compared to the urge he was feeling now.

He let out a loud moan as his bladder contracted hard, causing enough pressure for a few drops to spill out into his boxers. For one terrifying, heart-stopping second he thought that Grantaire would notice and disqualify him (and if that was the case, Enjolras was going to piss right then and there, no questions asked), but Grantaire was obviously facing the same issue as he gasped out, "New rule, leaks and spurts are fine, just don't totally piss," before a strong jet burst from the tip of his cock and coated Enjolras's hand.

Enjolras stifled a groan his own cock begged to let out a spurt of its own, to have the same second of release that Grantaire had. He grit his teeth and started to jerk off faster, squeezing his hand at the tip as hard as he could and providing firm pressure along the rest of the shaft. He did the same thing to Grantaire, although when the man leaked again, it was almost Enjolras's undoing. /Seeing/ the golden stream and feeling it hot against his hand made the urgent pressure deep in his pelvis throb even stronger, and he swore that he could feel the urine traveling from his kidneys to his already over-full bladder.

"Oh,God," he groaned, gripping hard again as even his erection ceased to be enough to keep the urges from growing in intensity.

It didn't take long for the Enjolras's hand to fail as a barrier, and as Grantaire pulled the car into the parking lot, beads of sweat dotting along his hairline and a nearly steady dribble of urine leaking from him, Enjolras began to let out spurts as strong as Grantaire's.

At the sight of their apartment, the overwhelming sense of relief at the relative closeness of their toilet was almost enough to make Enjolras give up right there. Grantaire swerved into a spot and slammed the car into park, his head dropping down onto the steering wheel and both of his hands dropping down to clench desperately to his cock.

"Fuck, I'm going to lose it if I get up," Grantaire mumbled, taking deep breaths before letting out a long, low groan. "Hell, I'll lose it even if I /don't/ get up."

Enjolras was thinking the same thing about himself. He contemplated telling Grantaire that they should just call it a tie and piss along the outside of the car, but the arousal burning low in his belly was making it impossible for him to do so. He slowed his strokes down and moved so he had one hand along the base and the other on the tip as he surveyed the car for /anything/ that would give them the tiniest bit of relief.

After a few seconds. Enjolras's eyes landed on one of the soda bottles. An idea immediately sprang to the front of his mind. "I don't care about the contest anymore, but fuck, baby, I'm so fucking turned on, I don't want this to end yet."

Grantaire coughed a laugh. "Yeah. Me neither." He let out another whimper. "It's not really my choice anymore, baby, I'm going to go whether I want to or not." His body let out another spurt as if to prove his point.

Enjolras grabbed the bottle off the floor and held it out to Grantaire. "Here."

Grantaire furrowed his brows, eyeing the bottle in confusion. "What are you . . . ?"

"We share it," Enjolras quickly said, tightening his grip as another few drops leaked out. "Make it a little more interesting. This way we both get to let some out, and we can hold on longer."

Grantaire's eyes lit up with understanding, and he immediately reached out to yank the bottle from Enjolras's grasp. As he lowered it down to his cock, however, Enjolras reached a hand out to stop him. Grantaire let a low whine, his hips rocking back and forth as he tried to make his body hold back for a few more seconds.

"Here's the catch. You can fill up the bottle halfway, and I can fill up the bottle halfway. It won't make things much better, but hell, maybe it'll buy us another fifteen or twenty minutes. I know it'd like to watch you struggle for another twenty minutes, wouldn't you?"

"Fuck yes." Grantaire's answer was breathy, and although Enjolras knew that Grantaire was just a turned on by watching him as he was watching Grantaire, it was obvious by the way that his breathing quickened that stopping so soon after starting was going to be a major struggle. "But what if I can't stop halfway?"

"Then I'll just have to deal with it and suffer that much more."

Enjolras didn't need the defeated look on Grantaire's face to know that he had him. Grantaire was nothing if not loyal to Enjolras, and he would do /anything/ to ensure Enjolras'a wellbeing even if it meant doing harm to himself. If he was the one getting to determine how much Enjolras suffered, then he was going to do anything in his power to make sure that the suffering was minimal.

Enjolras let go of Grantaire's hand, and Grantaire slowly lowered the bottle once again. He eased the tip of his cock into the opening and took a deep breath . . . only for piss to start pouring out of him less than a second later.

While Enjolras was glad that he had come up with a temporary solution, there was one thing that Enjolras had not considered: the way that the sound of Grantaire urinating would effect him. The very first spurt hitting the plastic had Enjolras slamming his legs together, and the continuing stream had him dropping his head down onto the dashboard and squeezing his eyes shut, the long blond curls of his ponytail brushing against his knee as he tried to force his attention away from the sound.

It felt like hours before Grantaire managed to taper his stream enough to stop. The lack of noise was music to Enjolras's ears, but it also caused a wave of fear to go through him. If it had taken Grantaire that long, whose to say that there would be any room left in the bottle for Enjolras's turn? And even if there /was/ room, how in the world would Enjolras manage to have enough self-control to stop before it overflowed?

Enjolras didn't look up until he heard Grantaire let out a strangled, "Here." He looked over to see, shockingly, that the bottle was only a quarter of the way full, and Grantaire looked like he was even more in agony than he had been a few moments previously.

Enjolras looked at the bottle in confusion, crossing his legs and trapping his cock between his thighs. "But . . . you didn't use your half?"

Grantaire shook his head before letting out a log breath, obviously fighting with his body's urge to finish what it had begun. "Had to make myself stop before I let too much out," he ground out, his teeth clenched and his nails digging into his palms. "Had to make sure you could piss."

"Trust me, there will be no problems there." He tried to make his words sound light and playful, but the feeling of a two-second spurt escaping made it hard for Enjolras to sound anything other than desperate. He reached out with a shaky hand and took the bottle, squeezing his thighs tightly again as he gingerly let go of his penis so that he could pull his jeans and his boxers the rest of the way down. He wished that he had had the foresight to move them out of the way earlier, as even just a few seconds of having his cock out of his grasp made holding it seem impossible.

After those three seconds (or hours . . . Or years . . . Enjolras honestly wasn't sure), Enjolras finally had the opening of the bottle securely around his tip. Before he had any time to process what was happening, he had already managed to fill up the bottle the rest of the way and made it overflow onto his jeans. His chest constricted with panic and he tried to stop, tightening his grip at both the base and the tip and clenching his muscles as tightly as he could.

After a few seconds went by without Enjolras having any luck of controlling his body, he threw the car door open and moved so that the overflow would land on the concrete rather than sink into the seat of their car.

Grantaire watched in shock, his grip slacking for a moment before he caught himself with an undignified squawk. "Apollo?"

"I'm fucking trying to stop, baby, I really am, but I can't." Enjolras's voice was shaking, and angry tears were beginning to burn against the corners of his eyes. He kept trying to stop, his mind and body in turmoil as he tried to hold on for just a little bit longer . . . He was having such a good time sharing his desperation with Grantaire just for it to come to an end with a small lapse of self-control.

More than a minute passed by before Enjolras finally stopped pissing, his jeans growing more and more soaked as he struggles between directing his stream into the bottle and onto the ground. Once it was over, he felt sad and empty, and he just wanted to snuggle with the love of his life.

His arousal had crept out of his body along with his urine, but when he looked over at Grantaire and saw the hungry look in his eyes, the flame in Enjolras began to burn brightly once again. Grantaire had obviously lost control (or had given it up) at some point during Enjolras's accident, as his jeans were drenched all the way down to his knees, and he had a much more relaxed look on his face.

His eyes, though, were what shocked Enjolras the most, the bright blue orbs almost black with arousal. Grantaire stared at him for a moment before launching himself across the center console and locking his lips with Enjolras's.

As Grantaire lowered his hands and began to tease, only one thought crossed Enjolras's mind.

He couldn't wait to do this again. 

**Author's Note:**

> Grantaire POV? Yes? No? 
> 
> Comments are love.


End file.
